


No Matter Where You Go

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Blood and Injury, spoilers for tokyo ghoul re
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You're like a damn cat, too proud to get help so you skulk off and die in some dark corner.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter Where You Go

“You're like a damn cat, too proud to get help so you skulk off and die in some dark corner.” 

“...You.” 

Short, purple hair. An apron from work, coffee-stained. 

“This is pitiful,” Nishiki rasped. “Being taken care of by a silly girl--”

“You are pitiful,” Touka snapped. He couldn't see her clearly. It was either dark or his vision was going. 

An unpleasant squelching sound, followed by white-hot pain. Nishiki arched his back. He might have screamed. 

“Be quiet,” Touka said, like he didn't have a gaping hole in his stomach. 

“What are you doing?” Nishiki gasped. 

“Some of your organs were falling out,” Touka said. “Or dangerously close to it. Can you drink coffee?” 

Nishiki shook his head. He could see the look of pure anger on Kaneki's face, right before he'd been impaled. Kaneki had looked different. Like another person. Unhinged. 

“Eat this.” Something shoved in his mouth, small, bloody. He swallowed it and his vision started to clear. But he was still shaking. 

“I had a nice conversation with him,” he panted, “before he lost it.” 

“And stabbed you?” 

“Not now. Before. I left her. He left him. We both had that in common.” 

He could hear rustling. Another sliver of meat placed in his mouth. He swallowed. 

“You're both stupid,” Touka said. “You're both trying to do this alone.” He heard her, under her breath, add, “Men.” 

“He didn't know me,” Nishiki added. “And then he did.” The room was dark again. Was the wound that bad? His clothes were soaked with blood. “He saw my face. I wonder if he still remembers.” 

“He saw your face,” Touka said. Her voice sounded hollow. 

“Then he lost it. Again. He's so useless. Can't—can't even tell who's on his side anymore. I am.” 

“He works for the enemy.” 

“Aren't you?” 

Silence. Shifting. “The hole that's in your stomach...comes out the other side, doesn't it.” 

“Ah, yes. It does.” 

“That's not good.” 

Another memory, laughter bubbling from Nishiki's chest, choking his throat. “I'll die, you know.” 

“Shut up,” Touka said. “If you die it's because you were stupid enough not to tell anyone you were hurt. You have people, you know.” 

“The doves knew.” There was a buzzing in his head, not entirely pleasant. “Damn Touka.” 

Before he stopped being conscious, he heard Touka say, “Damn Nishiki.” But it was soft. 

And he heard himself say, “He can't just forget like that.” 

*

The feeling of something tearing through his insides, stabbing once, twice, three times, like it would never stop, like hot knives ripping him apart, but nothing had been familiar for so long that it was almost comforting that this was a pain he'd felt before. 

*

The room was littered with cans of coffee, which had been doing the job of keeping him awake and keeping the hunger from becoming painful. Or it had been. The last can he'd tried to drink had come right back up, burning his throat, like normal human food. 

“Kaneki,” he rasped while writhing in pain on his bed. “Fuck. You.” 

He didn't know how long he'd been there, but the wound would just not heal. And he couldn't hunt. The wound wouldn't close. He needed meat. It was all Kaneki's fault. It was his fault. He wasn't sure whose fault it was anymore, but things had started going wrong. 

There was a hole in his stomach. That didn't happen often. And there was no one to call. No one, because he was alone. 

This is a shitty way to go, he thought. Not like this, not like this, not--

Delirious, he wondered if someone found him, if they would think that he died of a coffee addiction gone wrong. The cans all over the floor, perhaps he drank so much he injured himself. Gave himself a hole in the stomach. Because who would impale a college student and leave him there to die? He laughed at the idea. Coffee addiction kills, the news headline would say. 

The sound of a door opening. 

His mouth watered. 

Food. Kimi. Yes. No. Leave. Come closer. Let me eat you. Run. Come here. I'm a monster. Come here now. RUN. 

*

“Unfortunately, you're not dead,” Touka said. 

Nishiki stared at the ceiling. 

Touka sat on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to her chest. “Do you think it'd be better if he was dead?” She looked very young. 

“He is dead,” Nishiki said. “I saw it.” Touka looked away. 

Perhaps it was better if they both believed that.


End file.
